“Hey.”
He stepped farther into the room, and I stood. It was disconcerting to see myself in the dozens of mirrors all around the room, so I focused on him, which wasn’t hard. He looked gorgeous as always.
“You look…” He paused, taking in my elaborate, midnight blue costume.
“If you say cute, I will skin you alive.”
He smiled and pulled me to him. Careful not to smudge my makeup, he placed a kiss on my neck instead, then dipped and dropped a kiss over my heart, just above the line of my gown. I clutched his shoulders, feeling light-headed at his touch.
He said, “I was going to say you looked unbelievably sexy. I’m glad you’re not my step-mum.”
I laughed, “I’m not sure being your student is much better.”
He dragged his lips up my neck, and then brought our faces close together. His blue eyes almost matched the color of my dress, dark and decadent.
“One month,” he said. We had one month until he was no longer my teacher, and I was no longer a college student. One month until it didn’t matter how we felt and who knew about it. One month until we planned to have sex.
It had seemed like a reasonable plan when we were holed up sick in my apartment. It gave me the time I needed to deal with my anxiety, and it held significance since we could no longer get in trouble. But the more he looked at me like that, like he was looking at me now, like he loved me, the less I cared about waiting.
“I wish I could really kiss you,” He said, staring mournfully at my lips, which were full and red thanks to layers of stage makeup.
“Tonight,” I told him. “After the party. My place?”
He leaned forward, at the last second swerving from my lips and kissing me in that spot below my ear that he knew made my knees go weak.
“It can’t come soon enough. ‘I feel all the furies of desire.’” He quoted one of my lines from the show back at me, and that reminded me that we were probably near the end of our time.
“You should probably go before everyone else gets back. Tell Kelsey thank you on your way out?”
“Oh I will. Best thing that ever happened to me… that girl finding out about us.”
I turned back to the mirror, making sure my makeup and hair still looked perfect. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say my best friend was the best thing to ever happen to you.”
Even though he was supposed to be leaving, he raced back to my side and circled his arms around me from behind. He kissed my neck one last time and said, “I love you.” I looked at him through the mirror. We looked good together—he in a suit, me in an elaborate Grecian gown. It was still kind of unbelievable, this thing we had. “I love you, too,” I said.
I stayed staring in the mirror after he left, thinking that I looked different. Not just the costume and hair and makeup—me. I looked… happy.
I heard Alyssa call for warm-up, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my sprinting heart.
Today was a big day.
Our first Phaedra performance.
My last opening night here ever.
And if I got my way, the night I lost my virginity.
***
There are moments in theatre, when everything comes together exactly how it is supposed to happen. The costumes and set are perfect, the audience rapt and engaged, and the acting effortless.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Every actor was on fire.
And I… I lived another life in those two hours on stage. I lived the shame. It was a familiar emotion to me. I lived the hope when word came of my husband’s death. I dreamed that maybe… maybe Hippolytus could be mine. I felt the horror when my affections weren’t returned and when I learned my husband wasn’t dead after all. I experienced the pain of remorse when Hippolytus was killed based on my false accusations. And then finally, I felt the acceptance, the release of admitting my crimes, and it was almost as if I could feel the poison Phaedra took, coursing through my blood, reaching for my heart. It wasn’t until I had crumbled on the floor, Theseus’s last lines had been delivered, and the lights dimmed that I really came out of it.
The clapping started in the dark, and my breath caught in my throat. I fought back the tears that came with experiencing something as perfect and powerful as the performance I’d just had. That was what theatre was about—that kind of experience. We would never be able to recreate that again. Only the people here tonight would ever know what that show was like.